I Am Me

I am me
the reflection staring back from the glass
the half full cup
the dark chocolate freak
sometime friend to a certain scale.

I learn in the face of challenge
that my obscurity may be a good thing
that as I trip and fall
no one will see
or care.

I am a notion
a shadow
a spot on the frame
moving past old beliefs.

Becoming new.

Sometimes haunted
chased
driven
alone.


I existed before to fill your square pegs
round spaces
anything.

I persist to soulfully
pound
in the dark
without a key
without a pigs chance in hell
that you will understand my need.

I am a rogue wave
a rushing tide
a rare
voice
a thinking stone
passionately pulled
occasionally moved.

Mixing and mashing theories
slashing
splitting
flicking hard-nosed butts

against a blue-green world

of melting ice
smoking pillars and
smashed stones.
I am me

a miracle

to those
that bore me
with nothing
but a seed to plant
nothing but hopes and dreams.

I am much more than your
dogma
much more than a pulsing frame
wary heart
weak organs
tired blood
hidden muscle and moral bone.

Protect me from your reckless ways.

Spare the child in me.

I deserve
to dream
to inherit the ideas
of our creator
to see
beyond the black
molten mass
we’ve
become.

Cloud Concerto

In this open air venue

floating nymphs
stitch their serenity
free of charge.

A child is stilled
comforted by their play
counting their fluffy leaps
over misty fences
fascinated
by the scope of their splendor.

Angelic arms wrap
emerald peaks
exhaling excited vapor
as the spotlight shines
on tonight’s premier
presenting
fine art and composition
to the cultured audience
who clap and cheer
instantly
recognizing the
bird song prelude
and butterfly solo symphony.

Appeal for Book Reviews on Amazon

Thank you in advance for purchasing my book, Letters to a Prisoner.  I'm looking for reviews on Amazon. A previous version of this book was endorsed by Al-Anon. It contained exerpts from Al-Anon's Blueprint For Progress. I decided to go ahead and publish without those exerpts. It is currently required reading at Habilitat-The Place of Change, a drug rehab in Kaneohe Hawaii. Here's the link for your convenience: http://amzn.com/1456405365

Father's Day Story--Published!

My story, "Clean Sweep" has been selected as "Today's 'Dad & I' Story" for OneFortyFiction.com.


As you might know, we allow visitors to critique stories once they've been posted. If you'd like to follow in on any critiques our readers choose to make, you can do so at http://www.onefortyfiction.com/archives/clean-sweep.

Mastiff Manners

They begin pristine

 in their precise

composition

 like two dancers

center stage

their muscled torsos

strutting and swaying

in perfect rhythm.

Rocketing

limbs splayed

as they spiral down

landing abruptly into the mud

coating every square inch

as if it were a precious salve

 from the Dead Sea.

Sliding and rolling across the wet terrain

eight large paws leave no stone unturned

no blade of grass still, no fruit untried.

A rushing river hangs back

as they race by

two competitors

colliding into a break dance of

epic proportion.

Barking,
"BEWARE
YOUR SEASON IS AT HAND."

Choose with care.

Sharpen your wits.

It will suit you to study

carefully, the mastiff manual.

They are untroubled by

your crow and your claws.

They will smell your green

goo as it drips off the edge

of a palm frond

overlooking the pond’s edge.

Squash that splash!

Hide your red-orange

flash and fan-tails.

Their hunger is fierce.

They will

excrete your squirming mass

swallowed whole

next to

the chirping peep

fins,

 feathers     and       entrails

laced with reckless dread.

As they pause

pacified

to chew on a twig

flossing

away the fragments

in the midday sun.

My Personal Art Gallery

Ruth's Pacu Fish

Honorable Mention in Poetry at 2011 New York Book Festival

2011 New York Book Festival.  I received an Honorable Mention in Poetry for my self-published book, "Letters to a Prisoner"

Please visit our web site at www.diyconvention.com for the complete results.

The nation is controlled by

  The nation is controlled by deviant mutant aliens from another galaxy.

First contact was established in Ancient Egypt. We mutants had to buy Cleopatra off. The slaves were no problem. The pyramid design opened a door into our solar system. It was all part of the Master Plan.

The second group, also aliens, scared the hell out of the Inca. There were too many white faced hairy sightings to ignore. Our gifted writers and artists shared. They used leftover blood as ink. Sacrifice was later outlawed and we left. The jungle took over.

We aliens later financed the Hollywood film industry. Drugs were routinely administered and abduction, a regular occurrence. We carefully implanted the ancestor's seed. We ignored the prime directive. Clean-up is beyond our compliance. The producers have run amuck.

My father, another alien, was banished to this planet due to a selective hearing problem and a low tolerance for rule adherence. Mom was an artist. She went to the dark side of the moon ahead of Neil Armstrong. It was a covert mission. That is where the beta writing strain comes from. Our family is responsible for infecting the populace. Our ways remain too advanced for this culture. They still believe in deities despite our best efforts. Our science and telepathic abilities have to be reproved over and over again. Magic and illusion have gone the way of Monster Quest. The ratings speak for themselves.

Alpha Centauri was where our troubles began. Dad was the brilliant young Captain aboard, the newly commissioned, Venture, Starship class Z7653, Star date 2511. He beamed down ahead of security and was found in a compromising position with a Centaurian leopard. Later they accused him of commercial spot altering. They said he was trying to profit from it. Dad claimed that he found the leopard like that, but they knew better, him being infected by something called writers block. We still don't talk about it.

The inflexible High Council, made up of many aliens, banished him to the past on this archaic planet, with one moon, where they don't even have three eyed emerald fish and the locals are so ugly, it has us permanently constipated. We had to teach them our language. I would give anything for a bowlegged Alterian hump sucker. Not only are they delish, they relax the bowels, which makes our kind much easier to get along with. It produces minor gushing. Rapid fire bursts have resulted in some casualties in the Midwest. See product package for additional warnings.

The truth is Donald Trump, a talking head alien, had to be pulled out of the presidential race.

President Obama and his arch rival Osama bin Laden, also talking head aliens, are being called back to HQ. Osama is already back. All the money-power brokers are supposed to report for reassignment. Trump's show, The Apprentice, is too successful, which is highly suspicious in the present global climate. There is talk about a nude circus in Atlantic City, no word yet on if that includes the audience.

Here is the latest news from HQ. It is classified Code RED, the highest priority.

We're pulling the plug on the Earth experiment. The Dirt and Ash Concert is SOLD OUT. WE WILL DEPART behind Lady Gaga's, a hot alien babe, latest stage design. Hot air, lava, and plate shifting is escalating. The weather is out-of control! Simon Cowell and the X-Factor are unstable.

It is time to depart and resettle elsewhere.
The Mother spaceship arrives in 2012. Let the world-wide internet deprogramming commence.

This is the final transmission; Viking, over and out!

For Better or Worse

Who Knew?
It used to be different
Your parents picked one out
You maybe got to meet him once
before the big day
And that was that; simple, right?


Today we have endless possibilities.
We get to shop
pinch, squeeze,
check for soft spots, and rotten cores
before we put them into the cart
and bring them home.

A sharp few get free samples!

Parents, relatives, the family pet, the goldfish, plants
and the residual offspring
from the last vain attempt at matrimony
all get a shot at playing detective.
If he looks, sounds or smells off
it’s over.
And so it goes, back and forth, round and round
until the happy day you say, I DO!
Especially if there’s a dress, cake, crystal and fine linen.
Never mind you are in hock for the next hundred years
And that the bank gets what’s left of your anatomy
You are in love!

Everything goes really well throughout the honeymoon
Just that little scuffle, over nothing really, too much luggage
But he’s perfect; he picks up after himself and; get this girls,
HE CAN COOK!

Although it is a gamble, it does require effort and good recall
especially when those little annoyances start to crop up.
And there is the slight chance that they will turn on you
from all your daily devotion and care
and start to actually expect, consistent good treatment, until death!
Sometimes thirty, forty or even fifty years go by, well past any hope of regaining your lost figure and skin elasticity.
This is when strange growths start to pop up and you can’t remember the last time you had your period or what you did with your dentures?
Then you learn to cope with the little tics, a veritable sideshow of frolicking fun.
Belching and farting take a back seat to these jaw-dropping marvels.
Sneezing, spraying cold germs over a six mile radius
walking naked on the patio with a towel in one arm
and holding one finger on a nostril and blowing the snot out the other side
and then wiping the juicy remains into said towel,
or the ever favorite, hawking up a loogie and sailing it past the dog.
The possibilities are endless for the mature madam.

Of course you can always counter, with some unique sounds and gestures of your own.
Savor the possibilities!
You could
back up; try to sit on them, while using the commode in the dark
or squeeze a dab too much soap
into their favorite coffee mug.

Prepare yourself!
It will result in some hedonistic repercussions,
percussion being their expertise.

Unfortunately, as with all gaming activity
we eventually must face up to the fact
that perhaps our luck has run out, we need to move on, cut our losses
quit while the going is good.
Make alternate plans
like retail therapy, escape into a movie,
adopt a Pomeranian.

Take a long hard look in the mirror
have a talk with our post-menopausal selves.
Ladies, take it from me, it is cheaper to keep him
And you get to keep the hairdresser and your credit rating.

Do you remember
when divorce wasn’t even an option
when they put a scarlet letter on you?
Do you remember when they use to
accuse you of being a witch
burn you at the stake?
Talk about your odds?

I mean, what if the Martians
that we were
created to mate with,
had pursued love instead of war?
Had planted cash crops, practiced random acts of kindness,
been vegetarians,
listened to their mothers or done any retirement planning?
Who knows where we would be today?
Instead their legacy left us dependent on dinosaur juice
and double dog daring dictators
while wasting money we don’t have
on an angry planet still in the throes of labor.
A planet that doesn’t care
if our thin sausage casings
survive her vog thrust ratio
not to mention, escape the pull of gravity.
A bit technical, I know, but
everybody knows that, for better, usually gets lost
when it’s time to go to Venus and visit the relatives.
And worse, is what you get
when you let the Martians
direct the satellite broadcast
while driving the spaceship.

Published In Hawaii Fishing News

My poem "The Great Pacific Garbage Patch" is posted in the June issue of Hawaii Fishing News. My husband and crew had a recent encounter with a large cargo net, his story is called "No Fishing Tale". Both my poem and his story are on page 19!! Photos by David E. Johnson.

They're Loose!

Bull Mastiff puppies
explore their territory
hunting for tidbits.

Nothing else survives
on their watch. Chickens, lizards
observe puppy time.

To dance with these bulls
requires fancy footwork
most drop out, first day.

The English Teapot and the Ceramic Pitcher

T: The Queen sends her regards. She trusts her subjects are well?

P: I am humbled, that the Queen would take the time to ask. What does her royal highness think of the current world view?

T: What do you mean?

P: Why, the end of the world dearie! Do keep up!

T: Ah yes the end of the world, The Queen is taking a no comment approach to this matter. Personally I believe it is pure and utter nonsense.

P: Oh yes, well down here in the trenches, we are taking bets. Right now it stands at 100 to 1 against. So, are you in?

T: Good gracious NO! I have my station to consider. It wouldn’t be proper. After all what would the Queen say?

P: The Queen is in it up to her eyeballs! She’s wagered the crown jewels against it but she’s a crafty wench! The royals will stay in power either way.

T: So what kind of liquid are you holding?

P: Nectar of the gods, dearie!  Dark warm ambrosia, guaranteed to cure what ails you. The Monks have been working on this recipe since the Dark Ages.

T: What’s the recipe?

P: I’ve been sworn to secrecy. I’ll be castrated, if I tell!

T: Castrated-WHERE?

P: Do you see that top band around my neck?

T: Yes?

P: Well, don’t spread this around but, it is the weakest part of my anatomy, if it cracks that’ll be the end of me. I will be rendered useless. They will send me to the compost piles...

T: NO- NOT THE COMPOST PILES!

P: I’m afraid so, and then I will be banished from the kingdom and no one will ever speak to me again.

T: You need not worry my Brave Heart, I vow on my honor as a lady in waiting to vouch for your character.

P: Thank you, my lady-If you please, do you have some spare cups to pour some of this precious nectar into; there's a good friend?

T: There you are, Brave Heart---I trust that there is plenty more where that came from. I have an idea, let’s toast to the end of the world!

P: Cheers, My Lady!

T: Cheers, Brave Heart!

 Moral: Don’t pass up a friendly pitcher of warm ale. It may be your last chance to party with friends!

Asses and Elbows

*** Image of Contortionist by hagenrock on photobucket.com


Look Mom, I can stuff
my head plus one elbow, up my ass.
Quick come see, what do
you think of this? Maybe I
could get a job in the circus
you know one of the sideshows?
Say yes, please, pretty please? I promise
to send the extra money home.
What do you mean, what about the dog?
Of course, him too! I’ll make him
part of the act.
He can hold the flashlight!

I Should’ve Had a V-8

Tanka 5-7-5-7-7

Should have stayed in bed

played with the puppies, practiced

Zen meditation

taken stills of three Pacu

gliding through cool clear water.

On the Prowl

 A nonet has nine lines. The first line has nine syllables, the second line eight syllables, the third line seven syllables, etc... until line nine that finishes with just one syllable. It can be on any subject and rhyming is optional.




Sprawled atop the comforter, clever
white whiskered kitten cries and purrs
wrinkles tiny nose at twin
scratches mirror double
meows at smudge when
mouse emerges
game changes
hunter
food.

Roar

Volcano's red howl

excites rare Hawaiian goose,

lava cracks dwelling.



They Don't Bark

His didn’t.
Three months and forty pounds ago
we loaded
our new puppies, two Bull Mastiff brothers
into the
back seat of the car.
Our little bundles of joy
playful, cuddly, lick your face
tail wagging
pistons of power.
Muscle pups
that fly
eat rocks
like tissue paper, and
leap through the air
like they were shot
out of a gun.
Small giants
still growing.
Two heart throbs
tweaking
evocative cords.
That chatter in tongues
that only their mother,
a brawny brindle lass, with pink toenails
that lives in Aiea,
could appreciate.

Meanwhile
Uncle Zeus
his most royal Great Dane highness
has completed the first round
of inspections
and graciously agreed
to teach them the ropes.
So far,
he has taught classes in:

  I.   The Perimeter
 II.   Mapping out the exact corner where the neighbor’s dogs live
III.  How to mark your territory
IV. Where to drink water out of the pond
 V.  I have the bone and you can’t have it
VI.  Midnight Howling

They all got an A
in that last subject.

I am so proud.

Our choir
is a dedicated group.
They practice every
time they hear a siren.
Sometimes they will wail
up to three or four times a night.
In fact they enjoyed Midnight Howling so much
they have already enrolled in the daytime course.
We’re planning on sending them
to the AKC national competition
maybe even hire a handler.
I am curious
about their pedigree though?
This particular trait
must have skipped a generation,
because their
Mom and Dad,
don’t bark.

Blood Sport

I see you over der Zeus.
Did ya eat?
Did ya have a good breakfast?

Oh, Oh

What are THEY eating now?

Apollo, don’t eat that!

What is that?
OMG, He’s eating shit!
NO, Apollo
Ehh, Ehh! Ehh, Ehh!
Don’t EAT THAT!
PEW, talk about ya bad breath!
Drink Water Apollo!
Go rinse ya mouth!

Rocky?
NO, Rocky, Eh ,Eh! Eh, Eh!

Leave that chicken ALONE!

OMG, that feral chicken is in his mouth.

He’s clamped down on it.

Oh shit, the chicken’s ass is gone!

There are feathers everywhere.

I can’t look!

No ZEUS No,
not you too!

Apollo stay!

Zeus!
Rocky!

God, are you watchin this?
I need a break!

Little Monsters

The door slammed,
echoing down the long hall.

 Mom gasped,

Quick,

hide the wrappers,

the cookie monsters are home!

Pacific Golden Plover

Aloha,

Rain Bird flies home to

Alaska.

** Plovers migrate home to Alaska during April-May and are back again August thru October for the winter.

Beach Walk

You got ya walkers and ya talkers.


Oh how cute, are they PUPPIES?


SIBLINGS?


What BREED Are They?

After tha first few minutes and
definately by tha end of our walk
I got tha speech down.

Yeah lady,


Dey’re Bull Mastiff braddahs


five and half months old.


Der well behaved, even tempered and


Yeah, dey’ve bin NEUTERED!

Look at those PAWS!

Yeah Lady
Der gonna be massive!

Only Five Months, Looks like You’ll Have Your Hands Full!

The puppies want ta say hello ta everyone.

Rocky likes ta wade in da surf, gonna catch a big one!

Apollo wants ta inspect everything on da sand,
pick it up
chew on it
and den spit it out. He’s da smart one!

YO—AND dey like ta drink der water outta
a plastic water bottle too.

Some people just walk on by
dey like to look da odda way
not dog people, I guess?

Der walkin- is more important
gotta keep dat heart rate up
or you ain't aerobic.

Won't be able to eat dat
extra donut or MacFlurry
if ya get my drift.

But, like I said
You got ya talkers
And ya walkers

Later!

The Dark Side

Published in Onefourty Fiction!!


http://www.onefortyfiction.com/archives/the-dark-side

Rain Bird Launch Party 2011

Rainy Day

I’m old and cold my body creaks
my posture is inflamed,
I am resigned to be confined
my teeth have been reclaimed,
but I won’t lie, I’d rather die
before I go insane.
***

The yard, a pool
for howling dogs
to paddle in a boat
will rush and swish
reward a fish
for flying over moats.
Oh happy fish
I sure do wish
to eat your white fillet
but I must swish
instead of fish
And so my meal, I feel
will get away, today.

Freelance

I've carved a creative niche
bitter sweet
difficult to deal with
as I saunter down your street.

My verse is clipped
And NO, I’m not a waitress
my heart beats true
my wits, a tender matrix.

I’ll stay for endless hours
to snap a simple view.
I direct my burning lens
to puke a primary hue.

It may affect your estimation
you see I have a reputation
It requires lots of concentration.
MY degree is in DEDICATION
to MY WORK.

You can’t be caught obscene
with dis drama queen.

Yeah my BAD
I mean
my gear is often stuck in
some balls hairy
places
lacking social graces
with dried egg plaster
embedded in our faces.

I’ll frame
you full of life
smug and satisfied
bare-assed naked
soaked
in all your lies.

SNAP DAT!

I am an artistic dish
itching
to generate, maybe palpitate
because I can imagine
you was once a gift, your mama’s boy
her pride and joy
intact, a sap-- JAIL-BAIT
that wouldn’t DREAM of being late
or make me wait
full of phony excuses
foul abuses
to face the boozers
sucking users
that refuses, to make the right choices
to grow, their WIRED VOICES.

WHY?

cause nothing shoots better
than living in your car.

And because I work for da STAR
you know.

Yeah-- I’m Mitch
and one dizzy bitch
what’s it to you?
YOU—standing there solid
in your dirty J. Crew.


And I am an artiste!

Won’t you be my candid shot
and play wit me some more?

Maybe later we can pan and zoom
by the corner candy store.

Because my lens is in your face
so shut the FUCK UP
don't dis me in MY SPACE.


I’ll just keep you AWHILE
What was your name, KYLE?
just turn yea sweet cheeks to da left
And babes, give me a big SMILE!!

Thor’s Hammer--A No-Show!

Thor’s hammer threatens
Kolohe Wahine golf
at Pearl Country Club.

Weather remains dry
forecast updated to cloudy
thunder a no-show.

Five Women golfers
laugh hysterically over
piss poor performance.
 
Saimin and Pepsi
lunch, revives tired bodies
Sun comes into view.

Happy Mother’s Day Mom!

She gets up early
to dress and shower.

Today she will slide
into a comfortable pair
of slacks, large top,
and Reeboks.

She will comb her short white hair
clean her glasses
take another Aleve
as the coffee brews
while she straightens up
before she gets into her car
to drive into town.

It is Sunday.

Today she will earn double time.

Tomorrow she has the day off.

Tomorrow she will celebrate
eat pizza at the mall
with her youngest daughter
the one who remembers to call her every day
the one who drives Dad to the Doctor
and isn’t too busy
or too far away to spend the
afternoon with her Mom.

No Flowers

Send me no flowers


no pretty petals

velvet soft.

Send me no long stemmed

beauties

whose dewy fragrance

waft.

Send me no posies

that require

casual note

if you care.

for they will surely die

their purple blooms

will choke

into a speckled brown despair.

Send instead

a cactus or a weed

that will not wither

or get into a dither

from neglect

that can be left

to survive in a

brown thumbed void

unchecked.

Pleasant Dreams America

                                                               Obama proclaims

Osama bin Laden, dead

pleasant dreams tonight.

The Barber

He looks competent enough


standing there in his white shirt and dark trousers

as he makes slow deliberate steps

in a well worn semi circle

pivoting left and right

his sharp scissors shaping and clipping

carefully clicking along to a favorite tune

as dark mounds pile up on the floor

a shaggy witness to his art.

A trusty comb is well positioned in his back pocket

at the ready, set for its cameo appearance and then placed back

as the razor continues to hum

as he finishes up the Asian man before me

his neck freshly shaved and brushed

as the cologne is dabbed and the smock is removed and shaken.

The black and white checkered floor

quickly surrenders her dark wispy curls

as he turns from the polished chrome

and black leather chair

and announces

the next lucky customer.

It is gripping

like a one act play

and I am in the front row

then he looks at me and smiles repeating the invitation.

I smile back

it’s too late to retreat.

I walk the lonely mile

and surrender my locks

to his sharp shears.

The floor willingly accepts

my sacrifice

and the play continues

with one sold out seat

held over

as the patrons

continue to line up

down the street.

A Wedding Toast

Let us rejoice and speak of love
lift up our glasses and cherish this moment

the day, the hour when two have become one.

Let us witness the beginning of a marvelous union.

Let us revel in the beauty, lift it up,

nourish it, praise it and

protect it.

Let us allow it the freedom to blossom

into a ripening mature love

resulting in contented bundles of joy to celebrate

further broadcasting our hopes and dreams

for a better tomorrow, long life and prosperity.

Here is to the sharing of this splendid occasion and in so doing

we refresh our own vows to one another

in friendship, faith and hope.

Legendary

Hawaiian showers

color

rainbows prism.

-Legendary-

prism rainbows

color

showers Hawaiian.

Published

Three poems personify terror

two photographs

true plumbs

 Rain Bird

-Published May 2011-

Rain Bird

plumbs true;

photographs two

terror personify, poems three.

 ***Three poems and two photographs are published in this year's Rain Bird (An annual Art and Literary journal of Windward Community College Kaneohe, Hawaii) This is my fourth consecutive year!!

Missing

News
Bunny steals eggs
Steers were Mastiffs
Film shows balls
-Missing-
Balls shows film
Mastiffs now Steers
Eggs steals bunny
News

Medicine

Oh prescription
take this virus
burning red
drop me
back
into my bed
where fishes glide
in seas so blue
with rest restored
ill health subdued.

Dreamland

Mirror oh Mirror

deliver dearer

kind reflections to this mirror

this view surrender

now much clearer.

-Dreamland-

Clearer

much now surrender view this to mirror

Reflections kind

dearer deliver

Mirror oh Mirror.

Easter

Celebrate
dye eggs, eat chocolate
enjoy friends and family
-Easter-
family and friends enjoy
chocolate eat, eggs dye
Celebrate.



Scared

Doubt stalks lies
finds fools plenty
-Scared-
plenty fools find
lies
stalk doubt.

Earth Day Challenge

Change you

Start now

Recycle, renew, review

Earth Day

-Challenge-

Day Earth

Review, renew, recycle

Now start

You change.

Sentinel

Myna bird pair

sing raucous songs

silent warrior tiki waits.

--Sentinel—

waits

tiki warrior silent

songs raucous sing

pair birds

myna.

Cookies

Sweet and tangy
baked fresh daily

-Cookies-

Daily fresh baked
tangy and sweet.

Imagine

Sickness defeats health
acts normal
at clinic.
-Imagine-
Clinic at
normal acts
healthy
defeats sickness.

Breeding

Art molds story like
plovers change feathers
transforming winter
into summer.
-Breeding-
summer into
winter transforming
feathers change plovers
like story molds art.

Snacking

Poet

feeds world art

dry raisins

-Sunny-

raisins dry

art world feeds

Poet

The Agony and the Ecstasy

Low putts awarded

chipping in on the twelfth green

paid with nine iron.

Fine Art

 Motoring ahead
with the mind firmly harnessed
and all of its divergent frequencies

reined in

requires a large stone and a dash of genius.

To stick with a thing is to
cut deeper than anyone else
far beneath the surface of dim reality
uncovering the coarse dense layers
as each wedge further
manifests its own energy.

Only after
you have uncovered the truth

Only then does it release
the hostage
to ponder again transfixed.

Only of course

until the next precious pearl
is reaped from flatter tablets
to decorate cyber walls
for future generations to venerate
and complicate.

More on Common Sense

Common sense went to
Nepal got lost in a cloud
fell into crevasse.

Common sense journeyed
solitary on K2
nose-dived for nonsense.

Critical Thinking
hired for optimistic
journey, film at ten.

Common Sense

Common sense eloped

with critical thinking schlepped

affair on Face Book.

Springtime

Sassy
Puppies
Run after everything that moves
Inspecting with childlike fascination their
Noses  checking the remains of dried bird poop.
Gregarious they plunge into the fishpond in their gourmand dash.
Tidily scooped out the rascals are then
Intent on ingesting lime green lizards and
Menacing bufo toads waiting for nightfall and
Equally keen to feast on delicate Formosan physiques.

Stalling

I was going to write

but visions of tuna chilling
in a cold closet dressed in celery and onion, drenched in mayo and
pressed atop whole grain slices flagged me down and held me hostage.

I planned to write a poem but had to do the dishes
cut the grass and reconcile my bank statement.
As I calculated the cost
I checked the mail,
watched Life is Beautiful
and folded a dryer load.
Before I could write
my son stopped by and
we shared a coffee. A poem

skipped through my brain
teasing me with
parallel trains of thought
which led me down a
primrose path
in pursuit of monarch
butterflies flitting from
flower to flower
purpose driven
in the valley
of soon and very soon
panting for more
pressing further and further
through the muck of have to and should have
until I finally arrived at the
corner of here and now
where I carefully penned this
rambling verse and post it now to you.

Three Ku

Exercise trainer
dawdles on tropical beach
slurping chocolate shake.

Neanderthal dog
crushes rocks with incisors
leaves huge cavity.

Steam bubbles conduct
quake seismic blue symphony
maestro behavior.

Self-Published

S weeping style suggests
E uphonious
L yrics
F ormatted by talented Authors, Artists and

P hotographers. An
U ninhibited
B allet of writing and art
L aunching an evocative brand of story;
I  nternal and external rhyme forming  fresh free verse that
S ketches a vivid assortment of characters. Altogether
H armonious
E nterprising and
D elightful.



**Acrostic/Review  Saturdays with Lillian: http://www.blurb.com/bookstore/detail/2006721

Unstoppable

Freight train
Runaway car
horse trailer demolished
Slow motion pandemonium
Railroad.

 
*cinquain

Bright Objects Hypnotize the Mind

**Inspired by the Academy of Poets Poster celebrating National Poetry Month in April

Bright
objects
hypnotize
the mind, conceal
discernment in a
tapestry. A spinning
top wobbles and slams into
wall. A pear shaped diamond ring at
Tiffany’s. A shooting star. A slot
machine paying a huge jackpot. Bright things
hypnotize the mind. Sunshine mirrors sea
headlights glare inside island tunnel
the full moon’s steady starless ascent
a thousand candle watt light
shined into the starving
dark Chilean eyes
of trapped miners
surviving
major
stress.

**Double etheree

GOD Grew Tired of Us

That was when he created dogs


It was an off day

his son was lost in the wilderness

and he couldn’t find a decent grape

let alone turn it into wine.

No rest for the almighty!

Then his old buddy Lucifer

saw himself in a mirror

and suddenly thought

he was Caesar. And there was

some nasty talk about repossession.



So what was GOD to do?



He needed a friend

something that would love him

through the thick and the thin

the good, the bad and the ugly.

He needed good karma

to change the landscape

make the world a softer place.

It required creativity.

And lots of newspaper to soak

up those messy leaks and logs.

And GOD knew that

after listening Oi weh

to that voice crying in the wilderness

it was time to give his nephew

John the Baptist

a companion

someone he could cuddle up with

between those power locust lunches

with the new recruits.

So GOD created dogs

Tall dogs

small dogs

skinny, bald, muscled, hairy, yapping

howling at the moon dogs.

Spirited furry canines that didn’t bite the hand

that feeds them

who would love man and wo-man

no matter what they did.

And GOD relied on wo-man

to speak up and let man know

when he was getting crazy and warlike.

And although she tried to model good behavior

Man did not always listen, so sometimes he was sentenced to go to sleep in the dog house

which wound up being not so bad

because he could always rely on his furry friend

to lick his wounded alter ego

and show him that

he was still redeemable.

And if worse came to worse

his devoted friend would introduce him

to the new female dog

down the street

that’s

had all of her shots!

Alternative Publishing Panel

Saturday, April 16 · 10:30am - 11:30am

Kapolei Public Library

1020 Manawai St. Kapolei, HI

You have written a book but are wondering how to get it published. Join us for a panel discussion by three published local authors as they share with you a variety of different publishing  options you may not be aware of to get your newly finished book off to the presses. They will discuss self-publishing formats, publishers, online options and self-publishing. They will fill you in on the pros and cons of their choices and provide a list ot the publishers and options they discussed.

Easter Island

A single row
of moai statues
stare
from massive ahu platforms
out beyond a cloudless coast
their landscape now
arid and treeless.

They face the sea and wait
for no one in particular.

The old ones have long since passed over
their silence roars like a cannon.

Traces of their language
frame an obscure curtain
as one face cracks
crumbling at the chin.

Tiny shards slowly release
the life-force that plummets
soundlessly
towards the jagged rocks below
taking old knowledge and forgotten history
along for the ride. Hammered and
lost at the bottom
by conflicting views
and swept away at last
by the raging sea.


That culture's most famous features are its enormous stone statues called moai, at least 288 of which once stood upon massive stone platforms called ahu. There are some 250 of these ahu platforms spaced approximately one half mile apart and creating an almost unbroken line around the perimeter of the island.

The Legend of Captain Bly and the Mermaid

Word Bag

(deluxe, rope, weight, lifesaver, broom, gauges, battery, fishnet, tide calendar, cooler)



The Tide Calendar hung lopsided
its edges curled and yellow.
Water flooded the bilge
the relic listed to the port side
barnacles clung steadfast
to the thick rope tightly tied to the dock.
The cabin reeked of mildew
and stale urine. Pitted gauges
balanced haphazardly amid the dust and grime.
In the corner a couple of dead AA batteries rolled over a faded photo
of the vessel and her captain.
A beauty in her prime
she was in desperate need
of a stiff broom, spit and polish.
Rusted cans of off white deluxe deck paint
stood prominently
beneath the starboard seat cushion.
The scarred cabin door
hung on for dear life
like a holocaust survivor.

Captain Bly once a handsome rake
regularly drank
his dinner, his vessel was aptly named
The Heeia Kea Queen after The African Queen.

His cooler was always well stocked
with green bottles.

His weighty reputation had
stretched beyond the confines of the small harbor
and swept throughout the windward coast.

He always wore a black shirt
the collar ripped at the neck
thin against his salty frame.

Often comatose
he dreamt nightly
of snaring a mermaid
in his fishnet.

He was her Lifesaver.

The next day
he would wake in a cold sweat
as she disappeared
into the sea flipping her tail
splashing him with sea foam.

One fateful morning he was gone
that was better than thirty years ago
Some say that the mermaid took him
others say it was them green bottles.

Either way
he finally succumbed to his deeds.

So keep in mind

A full cooler
doesn’t float
as well as a life preserver
even if you are a lifesaver
and unless you have gills
you could wind up sleeping
with the fishes.

****

Leisure

You can do what you like

No strict guidelines to follow

No appointments to keep

Bliss.

~

Do you prefer dark chocolate

Or creamy vanilla

with your strawberries

heaven.

~

Currency has been

converted.

We now take

Room keys.

~

Time stretches

across an undulating

sea,

Anna Karenina rises.

Taking Back Custody

Write a story that is between 100 and 150 words. The trick is you must use the following words: drink - rock - damage - heartless - destiny - cruel - abandon - lost - regret - bastard. Words may be used in different formats (for example: drink, drinking or drank)


It’s a new day
to rock!

Amend some damage.

Make better choices.

Listen up.

Read the signs.
And not fall for the same
old mistakes this time.

Abandon the whine
and regrets
for the heartless bastard
that did you wrong.

Re-write that song.

Outwit the cruel fanatic
that led you astray
paved the way
for your friends who lost
the game of life.

Rewrite your destiny.

Because drinking to get drunk
or getting wasted
to unwind

for you

isn’t cool
it’s a crutch

And you are smarter than that.

So carve a new path

And never
ever
look back!

Rabbit Ears

We ran into

Peter Rabbit

at the Beach

and dared to ask the question

What do you get

when you introduce

two bull mastiffs males

to a fluffy white rabbit?



Wait

For

It





No-- it’s not,

a lucky foot,

Or rabbit stew



Do You Give Up?



These super smart canines know

that with rabbit ears

They can get not only

local network broadcasting

but with any luck

Animal Planet

and The Dog Whisperer.

The Great Pacific Garbage Patch

The Great Pacific Garbage Patch

should scare the hell out of you.


We don’t even know how big it is

because it keeps growing.


Located somewhere between Hawaii and California

it is one of seven garbage islands

spread across the world’s oceans

funneled and trapped by planetary rotation,

converging ocean currents and wind.



6.8 billion people will inhabit

planet Earth by the year 2012.



As of 2005

33 million live in Tokyo alone.

Beijing has 12 million.

Los Angeles another 12 million.



And 80 percent of our garbage comes from land sources.



Garbage that

impacts our wildlife



that has the potential to hitchhike.



Imagine

barnacles attaching to floating garbage

not normally found in your neck

of the planet

that can infect another

area’s native species.



Ninety percent of these islands contain plastic items

like nylon nets, six pack rings, balloons,

straws and sandwich wrap.

Water bottles, cups, bottle caps, plastic bags

and billions of plastic pellets called nurdles,

a byproduct of other plastics manufacturing.



Plastic that chokes whales, seabirds and other animals.



Brightly colored plastic pellets

that are mistaken

for fish eggs and krill



that is toxic

can magnify over time

across our food chain



and have an effect similar to DDT.



Plastic that does not break down easily in water

that is cooled and coated with algae

shielded from sunlight and

will last well into our future.



Clean-up and removal of these islands is futile.

They are growing faster than we can clean them up.



Our task begins here



Get involved



Clean up local beaches



Suppress further growth

by recycling and reducing the amount

of trash you throw out.



Your future is at hand.

How many Friends Do You Have?

I have four hundred and forty.

He is a new friend on FB

but he doesn’t have any posts on his wall.

He is a relative

but his wall is a blank space.

We share nothing.

We do nothing together.

I have

added him

to my list

of friends.

Cyber space

can be so cold.

The distance

is unfathomable.

The point

relentless.

R.S.V.P.

Thank-you for including me in your event
regretfully
I won’t be attending your celebration.
I have a previous engagement
perhaps another time?

It appears that Madame Pele
has a big surprise in store.
She’s busy cooking up
a decades old favorite recipe. It is a spicy concoction
sure to overwhelm
it promises
to melt the taste buds.

She is rearranging the table
as we speak. Had to lower it a bit
underwent a major transformation.

Clever hostess
insists that everything be just right.

The invitations
have all been sent.
The seating is fixed.
The guest register
reads like a who’s who
on the endangered list.

Says here to take note
the ring of fire
welcomes all
comers.
Mind the dress code and
observe the boundaries.

Llama

Lovely diva brays distinctive solo. She

Lusts for a three year old male. Tamed they

Are friendly and pleasant company.

Mature llamas guard livestock. Once depicted

As the god Urcuchillay by the Inca.

Six Word Memoirs on Writing

Voracious words eat writers for breakfast.

Syllable stew simmers notably spicy syntax.

A and E unite against U.

I keeps date with lady O.

I O U an E Mail.

Consonants pick up vowels; add meaning.

Cross word puzzles create sharp minds.

Pencils consistently lose their terse point.

Red pens bleed over tabloid article.

Articulate writers never get over themselves.

Laying Odds

Thank-you to David Johnson for this video
Enjoy!
http://www.facebook.com/video/video.php?v=1529705457600



The weatherman was wrong.




My back yard is now a raging river.



I'm no expert

but as we speak

a traveling mass of dead leaves and dirt

has clogged the storm drain

and is forming a brown island

reaching towards a gray sky

obscuring mountainous peaks.



The weatherman didn't know

that it would pour

only that there was a

chance of showers.

Swirling streams now converge

on yesterday's cracked soil

flooding crevices

And a thick green carpet

threatens to overtake

and cover the curb.



So be sure to carry an umbrella

and apply your sunscreen

Because being mere lay people

of average intelligence

who live in screened houses

with glass windows

we can't even hope

to predict the weather.

CONNIE

Cute retiree loves dark chocolate and

Olive-skinned men.

Near-sighted

Nature lover is

Impulsive and

Enterprising.

Sweet Nothings

Decades had come and gone

since they had met

her face was lined and her eyes less blue

but she still had a spring in her step

she could still waltz.

The soft scent and velvet feel

of the petals had drawn her in.

She inhaled deeply

her thoughts in faraway

Rudescheim Germany

in the valley of the Lorelei

on the right bank of the Rhine.

He had taken her out

to dinner and dancing

at a quaint inn

just off the drosselgasse. (lane)

It had been a warm August night

and the food and wine had flowed.

She had felt safe

comfortable in his embrace

as he guided her effortlessly

across the dance floor.

Her pulse quickened

as he murmured a sweet nothing

reminding her once more that

he had stolen

the rose

out of Rosendale

and that their melody

would play on

just like the

player piano

at the famous

music museum.

Elation

Another slice of watermelon please!


Belle barked her order as

Chunks of sweet juice

Dripped down her chin.

Eloise, her Mother, had

Forgotten her bib

Girl, you are a sight! She grinned back at her Mom

Happy, her smile was

Infectious. The remains of the

Just eaten watermelon slid out of her chubby fingers.

Kool-Aid stains

Laced with the sweet syrup soaked her white t-shirt

Mom couldn’t help but smile.

Naturally the fruit landed

On top of her chest

Perfectly. Belle giggled again and slapped the top of the tray

Quite proud of herself

Releasing the

Sticky fruit which promptly slid

To the seat of the highchair

Under her chubby legs

Vaulting a

Wanton

Xing and achieving extra

Yardage in a

Zigzag zoom.

Indian Givers

*** Inspired by the book,
“Indian Givers-- How the Indians of the Americas Transformed the World” by Jack Weatherford

Mark the writing on the wall.


Take heed.

The painting in the cave sweats.

It elicits our response

to ignore it

will incur a penalty.


Reconsider the truth

of their contribution to our society.


They remind us of when our resources

were many

and the tether that held us

together

taught us true democracy and

revealed how their gold and silver

could provide us with a rich economy.


The Native American healer

introduced us to quinine

and the bark that healed malaria,

later transformed into a medicine show

and reintroduced as a healing tonic.



From the woody vines

of the chondodendron

in Peru

we came to know

curare a deadly

muscle relaxant,

to ointments

like petroleum jelly

still sold today as precious goods

by street vendors in Mali.


We have provoked centuries

of painful forced labor upon them.

Ignored their contributions

and drained the oceans of them.


We know more about the dead

civilizations

then about

the pockets of indigenous still alive.


Long before Columbus

landed in the West Indies

the Inca had built sophisticated highways

and bridges from Cuzco to Quito.


The North American

native pathfinders

blazed interlocking trail networks.

The Iroquois dispatched armies

from deep inside Canada

to the Carolinas.


The indigenous lead the European settlers west

developed a system

of canoes and small boats to reach

every corner and crevice

of the Americas.


And yet the history and culture

of the Americas

remains a mystery

It screams

for discovery.

Remembering Home

Let’s just say

The Beatles reigned
in Tillson Elementary school.
The cute boys,
the songs we danced to during recess.
I can still remember riding home
in the back seat of the school bus,
bouncing high every time we hit a bump
on the twisting old country roads.
My friends and I giggling
in our bright new clothes
just picked up from layaway.
My long straight brown hair
tied back in a ponytail
fastened with a matching colored band.

I woke up early on school days
it got really cold
in the winter
in upstate New York.
The old furnace
was turned down at night
this warmed up the downstairs nicely.

Upstairs the feather down comforter
that grandma sent from Germany
pulled up to my chin,
was all that protected me
from the frigid air in my bedroom.
I would lay out my school clothes
the night before,
dress, tights, shoes,
and race to pull them on.
Goosebumps covered
my arms and legs.

I loved my room, it was private.
I had my own portable TV
and stereo where I could practice
singing,

She Loves You
and I Want To Hold Your Hand
into my hairbrush
each afternoon after school.

Before Mom got home from work
and I had to start the potatoes.
Before Dad
would bellow I’m Home
where’s my dinner?

When being the oldest

meant you were accountable
when everything had a proper order
and my audience
would have to wait
until after
the dishes were done.

Feminine Legacy

She had traveled to six different continents

flown, cruised, driven, motorcycled and hiked

had walked inside the empty pyramids of Giza
marveled at the Sphinx
and the Coliseum in Rome.
Toured Vatican City and St. Peter’s Basilica,
hiked up steep mountainous cliffs
to the monasteries in Meterora.

Sailed down the Rhine
waved at The Lorelei
crossed the St. Charles Bridge in Prague.
Motorcycled around the Southern rim of the Grand Canyon
and witnessed the beauty of the fall colors.

She had climbed up steep steps
on the Great Wall of China
and posed for a picture
in front of Cristo Redento in Rio de Janeiro.

She had survived hordes of hungry flies
driving in a rental car
to swim in the great barrier reef in Australia
and along the way had shared dinners with
doctors, lawyers, teachers
seniors and exchange students
some robust and others on their last leg.

She had inhaled the markets of Casablanca
sampled their wares, skirting old men
smoking stale cigarettes drinking strong coffee
holding fast to ancient beliefs
no longer relevant to anyone but them.

Ignorant men
trapped inside decaying walls
stinking of urine and fish guts.
where women
are traded and bred as cattle.
and the smart ones get locked away
in cliff towers, never to be seen or heard from again.

She knew that she was
one of the lucky ones
that this still goes on
today evidenced by

movies of women being stoned
by indifference and fear
innocent
courageous women

who dared to upset the status quo.

Good women and their daughters
discarded like trash
by uncaring husbands.

By fathers who would taunt their children to
eke a living from a stone field

who had summoned the courage

to work for a
widower’s paltry coins
and were later accused of sleeping
with their employer.

She witnessed the degradation
and the intolerance
saw a courageous soul stand up
and speak out, branded as crazy
the name Soraya forever etched
into her hard drive.

She had touched the stain
that is mankind
and still she
dared to hope.